London Bound (23 page)

“I guess this is it,” she said shakily. “Um...”

“No.” Nathan shook his head. “No ‘um’.”

He slipped his arm around her waist and yanked her to him, covering her mouth with his. She shoved her hands into his hair, fisted the strands, and licked her way past his lips.

“I don’t want to leave,” she gasped when they parted. “I’m a horrible mother, because if I could stay, I would. In a heartbeat.”

He kissed her again, light and fleeting. “You’re a brilliant mother. You’re going home to your kids even though you want to stay. And when you see them, you’ll be so happy you did. Though for the record,” another quick kiss, “I don’t want you to leave, either.”

She took a moment to smooth down his hair then stepped back. “I need to go.” She glanced at her watch and cursed. “Really need to go. If I kiss you again, I don’t think I can stop. So...I need to go.”

He laughed, despite the burning knot in his stomach. “You said that already.”

“I know.” She smiled but it quickly fell. “Thank you, Nathan. I can’t even tell you what the past weeks have meant, and—” Her voice broke, and she shook her head. “I’m...I’m glad it was you.”

“Me, too.” Nathan glanced at Jack as he set Meg’s two suitcases and computer bag beside her. “Call me when you get home.”

She huffed. “You don’t need—”

“Meg. Call me when you get home. Please.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded, eyes bright. “Okay.” She turned to Jack. “It was great to meet you, Jack. And so much fun getting to know you.”

He scoffed and hugged her tightly, mouth moving beside her ear. Meg laughed brokenly and shoved at his arm as he released her. With a nod to Nathan, he got back in the vehicle. Meg shouldered the computer bag and grabbed the extended handles of the suitcases.

“Goodbye, Nathan.”

“Fuck that.” He strode forward, cupped her face and kissed her again. Poured everything he felt and couldn’t tell her—not yet, not yet, he reminded himself—into the slippery dance of mouths and tongues. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” she cried. “Goodbye.”

She turned and hurried as much as she could with pulling the heavy cases behind her. Nathan watched until she disappeared into the terminal then walked to the car, getting in the front passenger seat, this time. He sat, numb, staring straight ahead. Jack remained silent as he drove away, until they were headed back toward the city.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

“Fine.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell her you were trying to find a way to be together? Her heart is broken, mate.”

“I can’t make promises I can’t keep. I haven’t figured out anything!” Nathan snapped. “Until I know I can do this, that we can give us a real chance, it would be more cruel to give her false hope.”

“I get that, but I hate seeing her like—”

“Do you think I enjoyed it? Do you think I’m not hurting, you dick? It’s killing me.” Nathan covered his face then slowly dragged his hands down and dropped them into his lap. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, man. That wasn’t fair.”

“Fuck, none of this is fair,” Nathan pointed out. “Now, if it’s not too much to ask, please talk about something else. Distract me.”

“All right. I can do that.” He hummed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Would it distract you to talk to dirty to me? You were very good at it.”

“Fuck off.” Nathan punched his friend’s arm.

“I’m deadly serious. That was a side of you I’d never seen, or heard rather, and I’m fascinated. Talk dirty to me, Nathan Harris,” he said, pitching his voice higher.

“Fucking twat.” Nathan laughed, feeling lighter. Not much, but definitely lighter.

Meg managed to keep the tears at bay as she printed off her boarding pass and checked her bags. Barely. And from the strange looks, she figured she wasn’t exactly hiding her feelings very well, at all. Chest aching and throat constricting, she dashed into the restroom before joining the long line through security. She locked the stall and, after setting her purse and computer bag at her feet, leaned against the door, hands pressed to her mouth. Her body shook uncontrollably as agonizing sobs, wrenched from deep in her gut, overtook her.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was a stupid vacation meant to prove she was all right on her own, to show her kids she didn’t need them to worry. She’d thought, at the beginning, she’d be racing through the airport, anxious to board and just get home.

Instead, she was snotting it up in a bathroom stall, come-soaked panties clinging to her and the smell of sex—and Nathan—teasing her senses. She wanted to call him and hear his voice. Or, better yet, be back at his apartment, sleepy and warm with him still wrapped around her.

Still sniffling, but not as shaky, she crouched down to root through her purse. Her kids might tease the shit out of her about having everything under the sun in the large bag, especially when she traveled, but she was always glad she did. Today was no exception, she thought as she withdrew the zippered bag that contained a few articles of clothing, including a change of underwear. Because, while a part of her didn’t want to erase the way Nathan had marked her, the next twelve or so hours were going to be spent in airports and on planes. That was pushing boundaries even for her.

She couldn’t bring herself to feel any embarrassment for what had happened in the car. And if she had, Jack would have destroyed it—with his way of seeing exactly what she was worrying about and his teasing humor. His whispered words replayed in her head as she set about cleaning herself up.

For what it’s worth, sweetheart, that isn’t something he has ever done. That was all for
you
. And no blushing. I didn’t listen. Much. Just...just don’t give up on this, Meg. On him.

Once she felt steady and somewhat put together, Meg went to the bank of sinks and washed her hands and face before grabbing her belongings and leaving the restroom. Passing through security was blessedly quick, and soon, she was sitting near her gate with nothing but time on her hands. She pulled her phone out and sent off a text to Aaron and Emily to wake up to, letting them know the long trip home had begun. Then, determined to not think about...things that would make her cry, she pulled up a solitaire game. She’d barely made any moves when her phone vibrated, and Aaron’s name and face flashed on the screen. With a frown, she hit “accept” and brought it to her ear.

“What the hell are you doing up? It’s, what, two a.m. there?”

“Good morning to you, too, mother dearest.” He laughed, the warm sound melting her smile.

“Good morning. Why are you up?” she asked.

“Was reading. Don’t have class tomorrow.”

“Oh, well, you still need sleep,” she said weakly.

“I get plenty. Are you boarding soon?”

Meg glanced up at the screen. “Yeah, in a few minutes.”

“Good. Make sure to take something after you board, otherwise you’ll never be able to sleep,” he advised.

The knowing tone had her rolling her eyes, but also made her miss him all the more. She grasped onto that reminder of what and who she was going home to.

“Don’t worry. I’ll drug up.”

A moment of heavy silence, then, “Mom? You all right?”

She pressed the fingers of her free hand to her eyes. “Of course.”

He sighed. “Mom, don’t. Don’t do the thing where you say you’re all right when you’re really not, because you’re the mom and have to have it all together.”

“I’m not! Seriously, Aaron, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” The lie tasted bitter in her mouth. “I’m just tired and really not looking forward to the long flight. I just wish I was home, already.”

“So do we. Em’s been planning. I told her you’d be exhausted. She’s going to have dinner all ready, and there’s talk of a movie and popcorn. She misses vegging with you. I’m not an adequate substitute, apparently.”

Meg chuckled. “It’s because you nit pick every little thing.”

“I have standards,” he drawled. “But, Mom, don’t feel like you have to spend all night with her. If you need to head to bed, do it. She’ll pout, but she’ll understand.”

“I know.”

“I should probably turn in. Are you sure you’re all right?” He cleared his throat. “You sound...sad. Is it because of Nathan?”

Meg laughed at the near sneer as her son said the name, even as tears pricked her eyes again—at the mention of Nathan and Aaron’s concern. “I’m fine. Go to sleep, and I’ll see you later today. I’ll text or call during my layover.”

“‘Kay. Love you, Mom.” He yawned loudly. “And don’t forget to take something after you board!”

She shook her head. “I won’t. Love you, too, baby.”

After hanging up, Meg didn’t have to wait long before people began filing into the plane. Once she was seated, she found her prescription and dry-swallowed a couple tablets. Aaron knew her well—she didn’t do well on flights, especially longer ones. And knocking herself out medically had the added benefit of allowing her not to think. She knew, eventually, she’d have to work though everything, but she hoped distance and time would help, so if she could put it off, she would.

Dozing before the plane took off, she didn’t surface again until one of the flight attendants shook her gently and informed her they were preparing to descend. Meg blinked then squinted at her watch. Shit, she’d slept the entire eight and half hours in flight. She thanked the attendant then searched her purse for something to snack on as she’d missed the meals offered. Not that she was crying about that, she thought as she opened the small bag of cashews she found.

Everything was a blur then—landing, hurrying off the plane, going through customs—and before she knew it she was at another gate, waiting for another plane. She texted her kids, again. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she tapped out a message to Nathan.

Back stateside. In NY, waiting for connecting flight.
She worried her lower lip with her teeth, wondering if she should say anything else. Shaking her head, she hit send. Not a minute later, the phone buzzed in her hand.

This is not call, nor are you home. I thought my instructions were clear.

Oh... Meg released a stuttered breath as her stomach clenched. Her fingers shook so badly it took several tries to type out her response. Then, she deleted it. How did she even answer that? Telling him she figured it would be easier this way rather than hearing his voice didn’t seem like the best response, no matter how truthful. Finally, she just typed one word—
Sorry
—and sent it.

Don’t want sorry. I want you to call me when you get home. And I want to not have to repeat myself.

Meg stared down at the screen, confused and, God help her, not a little hopeful.

I thought my leaving ended all of this. My submission—
she swallowed around the large lump in her throat—
Your being in control of what I do.

Is that what you want? It ending?

Her heart raced, and she closed her eyes. Only to reopen them when the phone vibrated, again.

Don’t think. Don’t freak out. Just answer. Yes or no.

A hysterical giggle welled up. He definitely knew her well.

No.

She held her breath and waited.

Then, I’ll expect your call later.

And, that was how she found herself sneaking off to her bedroom, while her kids made dinner downstairs, waiting for Nathan to answer her call. Not that she thought calling him was something to hide, but she’d done a lot of thinking on the flight home, and this wasn’t exactly a conversation she wanted them overhearing.

“Hello, love.”

Meg barely contained the whimper at the sound of his voice and fell back against the mattress. “Hi.”

“How are Aaron and Emily?”

Damn him. Damn him asking about her kids first thing. Why? Why did he have to be like that? It made everything so much harder.

“Good,” she answered. “Actually, they’re making supper, so I don’t have a lot of time.”

“All right. I’m glad you made it home. How was the trip?”

“Long.” Deciding to just push ahead with this and get everything out and in the open, she blurted, “I don’t know what to do, Nathan. I really don’t. You asked if I wanted what we had to end, and I wasn’t lying when I said no, but of course I don’t want it to be over. The time I had with you... I don’t have words to describe how much it means to me, how amazing it was, how amazing
you
were, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, I’m home now, and I don’t know how that fits in my life here. And it wouldn’t be the same, would it? Phone calls, texts, video chats, the promise of trips sometime in the future? Is that enough? I don’t think it is.”

“Meg—”

“No,” she said sharply. “Shit, I’m sorry, but please just hear me out before you say anything. Please.”

For a moment, just his breathing came over the line, then he sighed. “All right.”

“It was one thing to be with together while I was there. It was a holiday fling, something I’ll always remember, but all of the reasons it wouldn’t work out are still there. We live on different continents, and I can’t leave here, Nathan. They may be growing up, but I can’t leave my kids. And you have obligations and aren’t leaving London any time soon. And, its not like we can ignore that we’re in very different places in our lives. The age difference,” she dampened her lips, “wasn’t a real problem when all of this was temporary, but it complicates things now. I can’t give you what you need.”

“What exactly,” he said slowly when she stopped talking, “do you imagine I need that you can’t give? Because, you’ve managed quite well to this point.”

“Other than not being there with you, physically?” She sat up and pushed to her feet to pace the length of the room. “I couldn’t put you and what we have first, like I could there. Not all the time. And,” she swallowed past the tightness of her throat, “I told you I can’t have any more children. I don’t mean I don’t want them or I don’t want to risk a pregnancy at this age. There were complications when I had Emily, and more children is not a possibility.”

“Do you really think I would ask or expect you to put me before your kids or get upset that all of your attention wasn’t on me twenty-four-seven? Is that what you think of me?” he asked, his voice hoarse and tight.